


All Tomorrow's Parties

by pontmercyfriend



Series: Danger Days [6]
Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Families of Choice, Gen, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pontmercyfriend/pseuds/pontmercyfriend
Summary: She doesn’t have a birthday, not really.
Series: Danger Days [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636693
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	All Tomorrow's Parties

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacestationtrustfund](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacestationtrustfund/gifts).



She doesn’t have a birthday, not really.

Show Pony says birthdays are overrated and the shiniest thing to do is to treat every day as though it were not only your birthday but also the last day of your life, but that’s Show Pony, and they’re special. Party says that, in the special tone of voice that means they’re indulging something, _Pony’s a special case_ , and ruffles her hair. She huffs and crosses her arms—Party _knows_ better—but maybe there’s something to be said for indulging, because Party gets that soft look on their face when she doesn’t shove them away, the look that’s usually reserved for Kobra or occasionally Ghoul but never when he’s looking.

Birthdays are overrated. It doesn’t really matter that she doesn’t have one—there are a lot of things she doesn’t have, like a proper name or an actual mother or a sedentary home, but instead she has a car full of her favorite people and four older brothers and a series of names. Jet calls her _baby_ or _sweetheart_ or _kiddo_ a lot, and sometimes Party calls her _honey_ or _sugar_ if they’re worried about her, and the Doctor calls her _the girl_ when he’s talking on the radio about something new and shiny, but mostly they all just call her _motorbaby_.

Jet and Ghoul have been out on a border patrol in Zone Three for way longer than they were supposed to, and Party is almost antsy enough to start climbing the walls. Kobra is playing a game of improvised blackjack with himself, shuffling the cards. There are scuff marks from laser burn on some of them. That’s how you can tell what suit they are.

Party finally gives up glaring out the window like they can will Jet and Ghoul to appear and throws themself down on the sagging old couch. “Hey, motorbaby, how you holdin’ up?”

She shrugs. “I’m real jazzy.”

It isn’t like this is the first time someone’s been late. She’s gotten the _talk_ from all of them, but mostly from Party. Party worries a lot.

Party’s restless twitching is starting to get on her nerves, so she wanders out into the diner and slides into the booth where Kobra is still messing with the deck of cards. The cracked old leather of the seat squeaks when she shifts around.

But they come back eventually with a bright-n-shiny tale about dusting out some road bunny dracs in their white-lightning suits, and she whoops. “Fuck yeah, I’m gonna pump off all those mother—”

“HEY,” says Party, “woah, _woah_ , motorbaby, where’d you learn that word, huh? You been hanging around Chimp and Newsie again, kiddo? That kinda slang ain’t ladylike.”

“’S not like _she’s_ ladylike either,” Ghoul pipes up. She grins at him for standing up for her, then punches him in the shoulder for not letting her defend herself. She can deal.

“Jack-paz,” says Jet, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. “You’re a real bazooka baby, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says happily. She really is.


End file.
